Scheming For Scandal
by Musickat18
Summary: Beatrice Dubois and Edward Durand, the lady's maid and valet to the Duke and Duchess of Ren, can clearly see their employers are at crossed purposes and do what they can to nudge them along. Unfortunately, things do not always go as planned.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **This is just a little bit of fluff as a birthday present to Evi, aka Shestoosazytologin, without whom, this series might never have been written. She was the first to hear my vague ideas about A Scandalous Match and told me I had to write it. She has also told me I had to write a fic from the servants' POV because they were clearly in the know about their employers feelings. And here we are. Happy Birthday Evi! 3

In order to have any clue what's going on, you have to have read A Scandalous Match, the first fic in this series. This, however, can be read before or after A Scandalous Decision. This is really just a series of (sometimes very) short scenes, but as usual, this became much longer than I expected so I've broken it into two chapters. Chapter two will be posted tomorrow, if you're American, or later today if you're in Europe. XD

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Mrs. Phasma walked into the servant dining hall and clapped her hands. Conversations halted as everyone looked up at the no-nonsense housekeeper.

"Everyone, I would like to introduce you to the newest member of the house staff. This is Beatrice Dubois. Miss Dubois will be Her Grace's lady's maid." Mrs. Phasma stared around the room, looking each employee in the eye. "I trust that you will treat her with the respect and kindness that I expect in this household."

Several staff members nodded their head under her severe stare.

"Very well then. I shall leave you to your breakfast," she glanced at the clock on the wall, "which will be concluded in five minutes. There is much to do today, so be sure I don't find you idle."

The tall, imposing housekeeper nodded at Beatrice and then walked out of the room, leaving her standing rather awkwardly.

The duke's valet stood suddenly. "I have finished my meal. You may sit here if you like."

Beatrice smiled as she walked over to the chair. The man nodded his head in greeting.

"My name is Edward Durand. I am His Grace's valet."

Beatrice nodded in return. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Durand."

There was an awkward pause, before Edward nodded his head once more. "Well. His Grace is an early riser, and this is his wedding day. I should go prepare."

Beatrice smiled in reply as the man left, leaving her with three minutes in which to eat. She quickly added food to her plate, nervous already about meeting her mistress.

* * *

Beatrice knocked on the door, nerves making her vaguely nauseated as a low "come in" came from the room.

Beatrice entered hesitantly, seeing her employer for the first time. The man had a very severe expression on his face, quite unexpected considering he was preparing for his nuptials. She walked carefully to the center of the room, curtsying as Edward helped his employer into his jacket.

"Her Grace will be in need of your assistance this evening."

Beatrice fought to keep a blank expression as surprise washed over her. She had not expected to be needed until the following morning. She quickly nodded her understanding.

"Of course."

The Duke straightened his cuffs. "You'll likely find her very different from your previous employer. She was not born into the peerage and will not be used to having a servant attending her."

He looked up at her, piercing her with the severe look in his eyes. "I trust you shall show her the respect given her new status and will help her to the best of your ability?"

Beatrice swallowed as she nodded. "Of course, Your Grace."

The duke nodded. "You may leave."

Beatrice turned to leave, catching Edward's eye. He gave her a reassuring smile as she walked out the door.

* * *

Edward helped the duke affix the flower to his lapel, straightening the jacket's shoulders. He could not help but notice the nervous air about the man. Though he had knew it was normal for grooms to have nerves prior to a wedding, he wondered if there was another cause for the man's fidgeting.

Having been in his employ for many years now, Edward considered himself somewhat of an expert on the Duke of Ren. He was not a man of many words, though Edward had long assumed that what he lacked in speech he more than made up in thought. He knew several of the staff were terrified of the man, but though his temper quick and often raging, Edward was not scared of the man.

"If I might be so bold, where did you find Miss Dubois? I thought detected a French accent."

The duke glanced at Edward before continuing to straighten his already straight bowtie. "She was formerly the lady's maid to Lady Mon Mothma. She comes with excellent references."

Edward nodded. "Of course. I would expect nothing less for the future Duchess."

The duke tensed as his eyes quickly whipped to his. Edward resisted the urge to smile at the almost guilty look in his employer's eyes.

"She would of course need a lady's maid befitting her new rank in society."

The duke returned to straightening his bowtie. "Precisely."

* * *

The next morning, Beatrice walked quickly into a side hallway, stopping to lean against the wall, breathing quickly. The duke's temper was extremely intimidating and she berated herself for forgetting such a detail as having the duchess pull the bell to call for her. She was immensely grateful to still be employed.

"Miss Dubois?"

Beatrice's head snapped up as she struggled to put on a relaxed expression, seeing Edward looking at her, concerned.

"Has something happened?" He took a step closer, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder before seeming to remember himself and pulling it back.

Beatrice attempted a smile, shaking her head. "It's really nothing."

Edward frowned. "If it were nothing you would not be hiding in a hallway. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Beatrice took a deep breath. "I merely made an error and was corrected for it. I shall be fine, though I thank you for your concern, Mr. Durand."

Understanding dawned on Edward's face. "I see." He clasped his hands in front of him. "His Grace can be rather terrifying when he's angry, but though he has broken many figurines in his day, he has never harmed a staff member."

Beatrice tried again to smile. "I was not fearful of such a thing. I simply find myself embarrassed. It shall be fine I'm sure." She nodded before Edward could speak again. "Thank you again for your concern, Mr. Durand, but I should attend to Her Grace."

Without waiting for reply she walked around Edward and out the door.

* * *

"Beatrice," Her Grace said, shyly, "I've detect a slight accent in your speech. Where are you from?"

Beatrice smiled as she wound a piece of hair around the curling iron. "I was born in Annecy, France, ma'am."

The duchess returned her smile. "And how did you end up in our fair country?"

Beatrice answered the duchess's many questions, finding her shy manner charming. She could only imagine what it must be like to be thrust into the role of duchess with no formal training, and yet thus far she found the young duchess was up to the challenge. She certainly did not seem cowed by her husband, which spoke to the courage of her character.

Once Beatrice was satisfied with the duchess's appearance, Her Grace walked to her door. Upon opening it, the duchess paused, finding the duke on the other side of it. Beatrice tried to melt into the background, as her training had taught her, sneaking glances at the pair as she folded clothes over her arm to be returned to the closet.

His Grace was completely enamored by his wife. That much was blatantly clear. Beatrice struggled not to smile at the thoroughly stunned look on his face as he took in his wife's appearance. Beatrice was unable to see the duchess's expression, but the shaky breath she took before putting her hand on his proffered arm suggested she might be equally as enamored. Were it anyone else, Beatrice might have thought the shaky break was due to fear, but Her Grace had proven she did not fear her husband.

This was a very interesting turn of events. The servants had been gossiping for weeks as to why His Grace would marry a commoner. Could it be that the man had chosen her for love?

* * *

Beatrice ate her meal in silence, listening to the chatter of the other servants.

Suddenly a girl, one of the maids, rushed in excited.

"You'll never believe it. His Grace is flirting with her."

Beatrice's head snapped up as a flurry of gasps went up around her.

"Flirting?" Beatrice looked over to see Mr. Durand's eyebrows in his hairline.

The girl nodded. "Yes! Mr. Waterstone said he was teaching her the proper way to eat soup when he went to refill their beverages."

One of the other servants scoffed. "That's hardly flirting."

Mr. Durand did not respond, turning back to his own meal as a debate broke out over whether teaching one's wife to eat soup constituted flirting or not. Beatrice pressed her lips together to hide a smile as Mr. Durand's eyes caught hers, a moment of mutual understanding passing between them.

Beatrice returned to her own meal, declining to comment on the debate.

His Grace had definitely chosen her for love.

* * *

Edward withheld a sigh as His Grace once again decided to take his meal in his study. Though he was by no means an expert in marriage, never having been married himself, it seemed counter productive for a man to avoid the object of his affection.

The duke had made no excuses for his sudden outburst in the study after what had seemed to be a positive dinner, and Edward had known better than to ask, but surely whatever quarrel was between the man and his wife did not warrant complete avoidance.

The rest of the house staff had theories as to what had transpired between the pair, the duchess seen hurrying up the stairs as smashing glass echoed in the hall, but Edward knew better than to enter into the idle gossip. It could mean his job.

Though his relationship with the duke did not extend beyond professional, Edward could not help but hope that the man find happiness, if for no other reason than his life seemed terribly lonely as it was.

"Mr. Durand?"

Edward glanced up from shining His Grace's shoes to find Beatrice standing in the doorway, looking rather nervous.

Standing quickly, Edward set aside the shoes. "Miss Dubois. How can I be of service?"

Beatrice cleared her throat, seeming to realize she was wringing her hands and clasping them in front of her. He waited as she seemed to struggle with what to say.

Glancing on either side of her, Beatrice stepped through the doorway, speaking low. "I wondered if I might have a word with you." She cleared her throat. "About His Grace."

Edward's eyebrows rose in surprise before he lifted his chin. "I will not gossip about His Grace, so if you're after information about his feelings on the lady of the manor, then you will be disappointed."

Beatrice shook her head. "No. I mean, yes, that is what I wished to discuss, but not for the purpose of gossip."

Edward pressed his lips together, exhaling sharply. "Very well. What is it you wish to know?"

Beatrice took a large breath, clearly still grappling with her decision to seek out information about her employer.

"I wish to know of His Grace's feelings for his wife."

Edward huffed an incredulous laugh. "If you think that His Grace and I spend time discussing his feelings for his new bride, then you are incredibly naïve."

Beatrice pressed her lips together, his answer clearly irritating her. "Yes, but you've worked as his valet for many years. Surely you know his moods."

"Love is not a mood."

Beatrice smiled. "So, he does love her."

Edward shook his head, already preparing for the insipid talk of how romantic His Grace is.

"I said no such thing."

"But you've noticed how he looks at her?"

Edward sighed, irritated. "Miss Dubois, this conversation is hardly proper. The peerage do not marry for love. They marry –" He cut off, realizing too late that his sentence would only further prove her point, rolling his eyes as she smiled again.

"They marry for status," Beatrice supplied. "But Her Grace had no status. She was an orphan with no money to speak of."

Edward pressed his lips together.

The smile slipped from Beatrice's face. "I did not come here to gossip. I came here to see if my own suspicions were accurate, as you have just proven them to be. Despite the fact that I have only recently started serving Her Grace, I have become rather fond of her, and do not like to see her upset."

Edward raised his eyebrows as Beatrice continued.

"I simply wish to know if you knew why His Grace continues to avoid her. Do you know what transpired in the drawing room after dinner that night?"

Edward sighed, his shoulders dropping. "I do not, I'm afraid, nor am I likely to find out."

Beatrice frowned. "You have served the man for years. Surely you have some sort of comradery with him."

"His Grace prefers to keep our relationship professional."

"But how are we to help them if you don't have a relationship with the man?"

Edward blinked, nonplussed. "Help them?"

"Well, someone needs to get them to see their feelings for one another." Beatrice spoke as if her words were obvious.

"It is not our job to make sure our employers are in love. In fact, it would be an impertinence."

Beatrice sighed. "Well we wouldn't be overt about it, of course. But it is clear to anyone and everyone in the household that His Grace fancies his wife, and though I do not believe she is aware of it yet, Her Grace has shown on several occasions that she is upset at his continued rejection of her."

"Rejection? The man is merely eating his dinner in his study. That hardly constitutes a rejection of her." As the words left his mouth, Edward knew that was umtrue, but he was not willing to correct himself.

"He takes his meals in his study so that he does not have to take his meals with his wife."

Edward did not respond, though something must have shown in his expression because Beatrice's eyes lit up. "So, you will help me?"

Edward sighed. "What is this grand scheme you have then?"

Beatrice smiled and began talking quickly.

* * *

The following morning Edward helped his employer dress, wondering how he could possibly broach the subject of the man's wife without seeming impertinent.

After the sixth time he cleared his throat, the duke sighed. "Clearly you have something you wish to say. Spit it out."

Edward averted his eyes, helping the man into his jacket. "Forgive me, sir." He cleared is throat again. "I was wondering if you planned to take your meals in the dining room today."

The duke frowned, remaining quiet as he regarded Edward. "Somehow I get the sense that is not what you're really asking."

Edward sighed, straightening his posture and looking the man in the eyes. "I know it is not my place to say so, but perhaps it could not hurt to spend a meal with your wife?"

The surprise in the duke's eyes quickly shuttered, his jaw ticking. It would not be an exaggeration to say that Edward feared he might be dismissed, so it was no small surprise when the man merely nodded, walking towards the doorway as he tugged down his sleeves.

"Thank you for the unsolicited advice, Edward."

* * *

Beatrice snagged Edward as he made his way to polish his employer's shoes.

"Well?"

Edward gently pulled his sleeve from Beatrice's fingers.

"Well, I'm not fired. Not yet at least."

Beatrice's eyes widened. "Did he take the advice?"

Edward raised his eyebrows. "Your guess is as good as mine. Your time would better be spent asking one of the footmen."

Without another word, Beatrice shot off, likely in search of the footmen in charge of breakfast. Edward continued into the polishing room, setting to work.

Not much time passed before Beatrice entered again, looking frustrated.

"I take it His Grace did not breakfast in the dining room?" Edward asked, buffing out a scuff on a shoe.

Beatrice shook her head. "No, he did. But he left almost as soon as Her Grace arrived to dine."

The corner of Edward's mouth ticked up. How very like Ben Solo to pull such an awkward stunt. "I did warn you that your schemes were not likely to go as you expected."

"Why is he such a difficult man?" The frustration was clear in Beatrice's voice, and a sudden protectiveness rose in Edward.

"He's not a difficult man. I would say the more likely reason for his departure is his extreme shyness."

Beatrice frowned, clearly bemused. "His what?"

Edward set aside the shoe, walking over to replace the polish and set the rag aside. "Though he may seem severe and full of confidence to those that do not know his manners, His Grace is actually quite a bashful man. Most of his peculiar behavior and eschewing of social gatherings do not stem from the snobbery that his lowers accuse him of, but rather from simple bashfulness. He is not unaware of his awkward manner and thus generally does what he can to avoid being put in an awkward social situation."

Beatrice stared at him, astonishment written in her features.

Mrs. Phasma appeared in the hallway, stopping to frown at them.

"I hope I did not just find you gossiping."

Beatrice's eyes went wide as she turned towards the woman. "Of course not, ma'am. We-"

Edward took a step forward. "I was showing Beatrice the best way to remove scuffs off of shoes, ma'am. She had asked me to show her my method so that she could be sure to keep Her Grace's shoes in perfect condition."

Mrs. Phasma didn't look convinced, pressing her lips together. "In that case, I trust you will get back to your work."

Beatrice nodded. "Of course, ma'am." Turning to Edward, she curtsied. "Thank you for your help, sir."

Edward nodded. "Of course."

Mrs. Phasma scoffed and then walked on down the hallway.

Beatrice quickly turned back. "I'll leave it to you to make sure His Grace starts spending time with her."

Edward sighed.

* * *

Beatrice had just finished her ironing when Mr. Mitaka walked up to her, a worried expression on his face.

"Her Grace has returned from her tea."

Beatrice frowned. "Is something the matter, sir?"

Mr. Mitaka seemed to consider a moment before stating simply, "She seemed in quite a rush to get back to her rooms."

Beatrice nodded, unease curling in her stomach as she rushed up the stairs. Though it had been scarcely more than a week since she had begun her employ, she felt a protectiveness towards her mistress. Her Grace's youth and humility were quite charming.

When she reached the door, Beatrice took a moment to catch her breath and smooth down her skirt before knocking and stepping quietly into the room.

When she saw the state the duchess was in, shoes and gloves tossed about the room, she rushed over.

"Your Grace," she said, quietly leading her over to the mirror, "Lets get you changed, shall we?"

Anger rose at the tear streaks and wan complexion of her mistress as Beatrice quickly unbuttoned the long row of buttons down her back. What had happened at the tea to cause such distress?

"Shall I get a morning dress?"

Rey shook her head vigorously. "No. Get my bedclothes."

Beatrice blinked for a beat before curtsying. "Of course, ma'am."

Once she was dressed, the duchess walked over to her bed and curled up on her side. Beatrice paused in picking up the clothes, shoes, and gloves. It was difficult to keep her expression neutral in the face of the obvious mistreatment her mistress has suffered.

After being reassured that there was nothing else the duchess needed, Beatrice left, closing the door quietly behind her.

She stood outside the door, wringing her hands as she wondered if she should alert His Grace to his wife's distress.

Deciding that it could be a good opportunity for the pair to grow closer, Beatrice made up her mind, heading towards the duke's study.

She knocked on the door, rubbing her sweating palms down her skirt as she waited. The duke opened the door, raising his eyebrows at seeing her.

Swallowing, the Beatrice curtsied.

"I beg your pardon, Your Grace, I hope I'm not disturbing you."

The duke's brows knit as he stepped back and gestured for the her to enter.

"Not at all."

He walked over to his desk and sat down, gesturing for Beatrice to do the same.

Beatrice slowly wandered over to his desk as the duke sat, fidgeting her hands as the duke looked at her expectantly.

"How may I help you?"

Beatrice took a deep breath. "I don't wish to betray the confidences of my mistress, but I felt it important that you know she arrived from the Skywalker estate very upset."

The duke frowned and Beatrice hoped it was directed at the news rather than her.

"I see." He paused before asking, "Did she confide the particulars of what happened?"

Beatrice shook her head. "No, sir, but she was distraught to the point of requesting she be dressed in her bedclothes. When I left her, she had taken to her bed."

The duke leaned back in his chair, sighing. After a moment he nodded towards Beatrice.

"Thank you for informing me. You may leave."

Beatrice nodded, exiting the study. Once she was away from the duke, she sat down to wait for her heart to stop racing. She didn't know how Edward spent so much time with the man. He was quite intimidating. Now she could only hope that he would be able to calm his wife.

* * *

When Edward entered the servants dining hall, he pressed his lips together and sat down next to Beatrice.

Speaking low in the hopes of avoiding gossip, Edward asked, "Have you any idea what happened yesterday?"

A wrinkle appearing between Beatrice's eyebrows as she shook her head. "Her Grace returned from her tea quite upset. I alerted His Grace to the situation. When I dressed Her Grace this morning, she mentioned needing to apologize to him, so I can only assume things did not go well."

Edward exhaled sharply. "No. His Grace was in quite a state when he prepared for bed."

Beatrice sighed and slumped back into her chair. "I was hoping he could comfort her, that it would draw them closer."

Edward pressed his lips together. "Yes, well it would seem that the opposite happened instead."

Beatrice shook her head. "Why must they be so difficult?"

Edward did not answer, though he silently agreed with the sentiment.

Not an hour later, Beatrice raced up to Edward, her eyes bright.

"They spent an entire breakfast together."

Edward's eyebrows rose in shock.

Beatrice was nearly bouncing on her toes. "They discussed their differences and Mr. Adams said he even noticed Her Grace smiling."

Edward pressed his lips together to hide the smile at Beatrice's excitement.

Spying Mrs. Phasma rounding the corner, Edward nodded. "Thank you for the update Miss Dubois."

Beatrice's eyes widened as she glanced behind her, quickly turning to curtsy and walk away.

Edward continued walking down the hallway, nodding as he passed the housekeeper, the corners of his mouth upturned as he contemplating this surprising turn of events.

* * *

Several days later, Mrs. Phasma walked into the servant's dining hall, a man and woman behind her.

"Everyone, this is Mr. and Mrs. Smith. His Grace has hired Mrs. Smith to be the duchess's paid companion. Mr. Smith will spend his time helping the house in whatever manner we need him to and while the duchess is in her lessons Mrs. Smith will do the same."

The housekeeper scanned the room, her eyes stern. "As always, I trust you will treat them with the utmost respect."

When several heads nodded, Mrs. Phasma turned to the pair. "You may eat your breakfast. You have – " she glanced at the clock on the wall, "twenty-three minutes before I expect you to come to me for your daily assignment."

The Smiths nodded their head, heading towards the table as the housekeeper left. Beatrice smiled at the pair, gesturing across from her at two vacant seats.

As they began loading their plates with food Beatrice introduced herself.

"I'm Beatrice Dubois, Her Grace's lady's maid."

Mrs. Smith smiled in return. "I'm Rose and this is my husband Finn."

Finn nodded as he tucked in to his meal.

Beatrice and Rose held a cordial conversation as they ate. When a bell rang, Beatrice glanced over and then patted the napkin to the corner of her mouth.

"That's me then," she said, rising from her seat.

Rose quickly stood up. "Oh, please let me go."

Beatrice paused, uncertain. Mrs. Phasma did not like changes in routine, but seeing the excitement in Rose's eyes, Beatrice nodded.

"Very well. Follow me. I'll let you grab Her Grace's tray and show you where her room is."

A smile bloomed on Rose's face as she quickly grabbed her half-eaten plate and followed Beatrice out of the room.

* * *

In the days that followed, Beatrice wondered if she should enlist the help of Rose in her quest to help their employers navigate their marriage.

And so it was, when the day for Lady Holdo's ball arrived that Beatrice, after speaking with Edward – who had sighed before giving his permission – took Rose aside and explained her thus far failing schemes to get the duke and duchess to fall in love.

Much to her relief, Rose was quite enthusiastic about helping. They spent several minutes discussing how best to achieve their goal, pulling Edward aside to join them before they spotted Mrs. Phasma turning a corner and scattered.

That evening, Rose helped Beatrice in preparing the duchess for the ball. They had discussed what touches they could do to ensure His Grace was swept of his feet by his wife's beauty. Her Grace generally preferred to keep her hair in a simply styled bun, but Beatrice decided on a complicated hairstyle of braids, sweeping a few strands of hair to frame her face prettily.

The duchess stood in front of the mirror as Beatrice dressed her, pairing white silk slippers and white elbow length gloves with the dress. Rose did what she could as Beatrice styled the duchess's hair, helping to curl and pin.

When Beatrice allowed Her Grace to look in the mirror, the duchess's breath caught. The dress had been tailored to fit perfectly, the gloves and shoes complimenting the dress nicely. Beatrice's intricate style of curls were piled atop her head, with a few tendrils left to drift around her face, making her appear both delicate and regal.

Rose bit her lip as the duchess smiled at her through the mirror and then gave into a squeal of excitement. Grabbing her friend's hands, she said, "I cannot wait to hear about the evening. You must promise to try to enjoy yourself."

The duchess smiled back. "I shall do my best, for your sake if not my own."

After a few last touches, the duchess walked to the door.

Beatrice and Rose shared a smile at the look on the duke's face as he took in his wife's appearance. They had spoken with Edward about making sure to fit His Grace in his best formalwear. Edward had sighed once more but agreed. It seemed he had outdone himself, as the duchess seemed equally as enamored by her husband's appearance as he was with hers. It was all Beatrice could do not to squeal in excitement as the pair walked slowly down the hall. They were so caught up in the moment they didn't even notice Rose grabbing Beatrice's hand and pulling her out in the hallway to watch them leave.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Edward had retired early, hoping to get some rest before he would be needed to assist the duke in dressing in his bedclothes in the middle of the night.

He was startled awake by a sharp rap at his door.

"Come in," he said, pushing his covers down and moving his feet to the floor, pulling a hand down his face.

Mr. Mitaka quietly stepped into his room.

"His Grace is requesting your presence in his study."

Edward blinked. "His study?"

Mr. Mitaka merely nodded.

"He has been summoned by the king and will be leaving for London immediately."

Before Edward could voice his confusion, Mr. Mitaka turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Edward quickly dressed before hurrying to his employer's study. When he walked in, the duke glanced up from the sheet of paper before him.

"I assume Mr. Mitaka informed you we will be leaving immediately for London?"

Edward nodded. "How shall I pack? Will we be there for long?"

The duke nodded absently. "Yes. Several weeks at least. Please pack an array of casual and formalwear."

"Of course, sir."

The duke glanced down at the blank sheet before him, waving his hand. "You may go. We leave as soon as the packing is complete."

Edward hurried away, quickly heading up the stairs to the duke's bedroom. As he was reaching the door, the door to the duchess's room opened and Beatrice stepped out, looking worried. When she spotted Edward, she started.

Edward glanced around before whispering, "We're going to London for several weeks."

Beatrice's eyebrows rose. "We are?"

Edward frowned. "You mean you don't know? Did Mr. Mitaka not tell you when he woke you?"

Beatrice shook her head, stepping further away from the door. "No, and Her Grace is in quite a state. She hardly registered my presence as I helped her prepare for bed. Do you know what happened? They were quite enamored of each other this evening as they left."

Edward pressed his lips together. "No. His Grace gave no indication to me that things were remiss, though I did find it strange that he was in his study rather than his rooms."

Beatrice exhaled sharply. "Why must they persist in being so stubborn about their feelings?"

Edward raised his eyebrows. "I did warn you not to play matchmaker."

"Surely even you can see that they care for one another."

Edward sighed. "That much is obvious, yes, but I think you're forgetting that the peerage do not marry for love."

"I forget nothing. There can be only one reason why His Grace would choose a woman of such low birth and that is love." Beatrice crossed her arms before sighing. "I suppose I had best report to Mr. Mitaka."

Edward nodded and turned the knob, stepping inside the room to pack as Beatrice continued down the hallway.

He had scarcely gotten started when Beatrice entered the room in a tizzy.

"She's not going!" Though the words were whispered, the irritation in them was evident.

Edward frowned. "The duchess is not going to London?"

Beatrice shook her head. "Weeks. You'll be gone weeks and we just started to make some progress."

Beatrice dropped into a chair, sighing. Edward frowned at her informal behavior.

His frown deepened when he realized they would be away from the manor for weeks, ignoring the sudden pang he got as he realized he would not see Beatrice for so long as well.

"Well," he said, "they do say that absence makes the heart grow fonder."

Beatrice sighed again before standing. "Yes, well, if that's true then the duke and duchess will surely be in love by the time you return."

A strange expression crossed Beatrice's face, causing Edward to look down at the trunk before him.

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat, "I had best get to packing. His Grace wishes to leave immediately."

When no reply came, he glanced back up, to see Beatrice chewing on her bottom lip, a conflicted look on her face. Abruptly she nodded at him before turning and hurrying out the door.

Edward frowned at the empty doorway for several moments before shaking his head and returning to the packing. Though he had begrudgingly agreed to help Beatrice, he had to admit that it was obvious neither the duke nor duchess realized the other returned their affections. He could only hope their feelings did not wane as they were parted.

* * *

The weeks passed slowly for Beatrice. She had not quite realized the feelings she had for Edward until he was leaving. It left her discombobulated. She did her best to remain busy, finding she quite enjoyed Rose's company. The woman also had more incite into the duchess.

She was startled out of her thoughts one day by a flurry of whispers.

"What's happening?" she asked.

One of the other maids, Anna, turned to her. "His Grace just returned and found Captain Dameron touring the gardens with the duchess. He was quite upset. I saw him racing up the stairs just now with the duchess trailing behind him."

Beatrice's eyes widened, but before she could respond, Edward rounded the corner. Her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of him, though she quickly pushed aside those feelings at the look of concern in Edward's eyes.

"Their Graces just received an urgent message from the Skywalker estate. They are leaving immediately and we are to pack for several days and follow behind them."

Beatrice took a deep breath. "Of course. I shall go pack immediately."

Edward paused, looking as if he had more to say before simply stepping aside for Beatrice to pass.

* * *

The carriage ride to the estate was silent. Beatrice frequently glanced at Edward, who was doing his best to remain calm.

Seeing Beatrice again had nearly taken his breath away. When he had developed feelings for the maid, he did not know, but the weeks without her had been long.

When she cleared her throat, Edward's eyes snapped to hers.

The corners of her mouth turned up into a shy smile. "I'm glad you've returned."

Edward swallowed, feeling his chest expand in happiness. "I'm glad to be back."

They stared at one another in silence before Beatrice ducked her head and turned to look out the window. Edward cleared his throat and did the same and they spent the remainder of the ride sitting in companionable silence.

When they arrived at the manor, they were met by Mr. Threepio, who showed them to the room the duke and duchess would be staying in.

Beatrice shared a look with Edward, the corners of his mouth turning up as he returned the glance. After weeks apart, now the duke and duchess would be sharing a room, sharing a bed. He could already see the schemes brewing in Beatrice's mind, but rather than feeling annoyance, Edward felt affection welling up.

"Well," Mr. Threepio said, clearly unaware of the silent conversation between the two of them, "I shall leave you to unpack. Please report to the servants' all for dinner when you are finished."

After he left, Edward turned towards the duke's trunk, and began unpacking the contents, Beatrice doing the same.

"Weeks apart and now they'll be forced into each other's company," Beatrice said as she carried a dress into the small guest closet.

Edward raised his eyebrows in mock shock. "Whatever schemes your dreaming up, they won't work."

Beatrice smiled, ducking her head as she walked back to the trunk. "We shall see."

Edward blinked rapidly when he realized he had stopped to stare at her, shaking his head and heading back to unpack.

As they were finishing up, the door abruptly opened, the duke striding in quickly, seeming unaware of their presence, the duchess trailing behind him. The duke strode to the window, stopping to stare out.

Edward and Beatrice shared a look before she turned towards the duchess. "Is there anything we can do, ma'am?"

The duchess looked troubled, but shook her head. "No, thank you Beatrice." She nodded to both of them. "You may leave us."

Edward nodded and left quickly, stepping aside to let Beatrice out the door first, closing it behind them.

"That was strange," Beatrice said in a low manner.

Edward, who knew of his employer's familial strain, said nothing. He feared the next days would be long.

* * *

Beatrice and Edward had just finished helping clean up from dinner when the bell for the guest room rang. Drying their hands and sharing a look, they both turned to walk out the door, Beatrice hiding her smile as Edward once again waited for her to pass through first.

When they arrived, the duke nodded at Edward, who set about pulling out his night clothes.

Beatrice hid her smile as the duchess quickly averted her eyes, her face reddening as she turned towards Beatrice.

The duchess cleared her throat. "I'd like to prepare for bed now, please."

"Of course, ma'am," Beatrice stated.

There was no vanity and only one mirror, which the duke was currently standing in front of. As Edward removed the duke's shirt, the duchess's eyes widened. Beatrice watched, barely containing her smile as the duchess gaped at her husband, her gaze sliding upwards. She quickly averted her eyes when she found her husband watching her, his face impassive. Turning around, the duchess placed a hand on the desk in front of her.

"Where should you like to dress, ma'am?" Beatrice asked, walking up to her side, unable to keep the laughter out of her voice.

"You can take the mirror," the duke replied, stepping back. "I'll finish dressing over by the desk."

He walked away from the mirror, still without a shirt. Beatrice pressed her lips together at the look on the duchess's face when her husband headed towards them.

"Thank you, sir," she said as she quickly moved past him, head down, Beatrice sharing a glance with Edward as she passed. Though he seemed much more adept at hiding his amusement, Beatrice noticed the gleam in his eye.

As Beatrice unbuttoned her dress, the duchess glanced again at her husband as he slid on the nightshirt Edward held out. So caught up in watching the man dress, she did not notice when Beatrice had finished unbuttoning her dress.

"Ma'am?" Beatrice asked.

Shaking herself, the duchess apologized.

Standing now in only her undergarments, the duchess looked uncomfortable, though the duke and Edward kept their backs to them. She rushed into her nightshirt as Beatrice held it out.

"Would you like me to remove the pins from your hair?" Beatrice asked.

The duchess nodded, quickly moving her gaze to the floor. Beatrice efficiently unpinned the updo and braided her hair back.

Stepping away, she asked, "Will there be anything else, ma'am?"

The duchess put a hand up to her collar, looking uncomfortable. "No, that will be all, Beatrice. Thank you."

Beatrice nodded, sharing a look with Edward before she left, the corners of her mouth turned upwards. Perhaps things would not be so bad after all.

* * *

"How do you think the evening went?" Beatrice asked.

Edward frowned, glancing around them, thankful when none of the other servants seemed to be paying attention.

"What does or does not transpire in that room is none of our concern."

Beatrice sighed, but before she could respond, the bell for the guest room rang again. Setting their napkins on the table, both she and Edward rose to answer the summons.

When they arrived at the room, Beatrice pressed her lips together, feeling giddy at their employers standing quite close, the duke looking softly down at the duchess as she blushed. Beatrice looked over at Edward in triumph. He sighed silently at her.

The duchess walked unsteadily over to the mirror. As Beatrice unplaited her hair and ran a brush through it, she watched the duke through the mirror. He spoke in soft tones to Edward, who then walked towards the small closet. The duke, seeming to feel his wife's stare, turned his head towards her. She quickly averted her eyes.

Beatrice, lips pressed together to hide her amusement, asked "How did you sleep, ma'am?"

The duchess mumbled a response and turned back to her own reflection, a small frown on her face.

Once she was done, the duchess quickly left the room, the duke following her out shortly after. Beatrice immediately walked over to Edward.

"Things certainly seem cozy this morning."

Edward's lips twitched, but he straightened. "I'm sure it's none of our business."

Beatrice scoffed, walking back over to grab the duchess's nightclothes off the floor.

"Do not pretend you have not been scheming with me."

Edward whipped his head around. "I've tolerated your schemes, at best." The words lacked any real censure, however, and Beatrice smiled fully.

"If you say so, Mr. Durand."

* * *

"He's alone in library."

Edward glanced up from polishing a scuff out of a pair of boots. Beatrice stood just inside the doorway, arms akimbo, an expression of annoyance on her face.

Though he knew very well who she was talking about, he asked. "Who's alone in the library?"

Beatrice scoffed. "His Grace, of course." She raised her eyebrows. "You have to do something."

Edward looked back at her. "I'm not sure what sway you think I have with our employer, but nothing I saw will make a difference."

"Why must they be so difficult?" Beatrice stepped further into the room, her cheeks flushed prettily in her annoyance.

Edward cleared his throat as he realized his observation and returned to polishing the boot. "Maybe it would be best if we left things alone."

At the silence, Edward looked up, wondering if he had been left alone. Instead Beatrice was chewing her lip, lost in thought. He swallowed thickly at the sudden thumping of his heart, clearing his throat once more.

Beatrice gasped and turned to him. "I've got it. Tell him to take a walk with her in the gardens."

Edward could not help an incredulous laugh. "You want me to tell my employer he should take a walk with his wife? Do you know the man at all?"

Beatrice didn't seem to be deterred. "But you're the only one who could. Surely you're the one who knows him best."

"He'll find it an impertinence."

"Not if you approach it the right way." She chewed her lip once more, lost in thought. Edward watched her, the boot in his hand completely forgotten.

Her eyes brightened and she straightened. "I have an idea."

* * *

Edward pressed his lips together, hardly able to believe what he was about to do. Surely their schemes would be obvious to the duke. With the man's mercurial emotions, Edward wouldn't be surprised if he was dismissed on the spot.

When he entered the library, he quickly spotted the duke sitting in a quiet corner by the window.

"Pardon the intrusion, sir." Edward clasped his hands in front of him to hide their slight tremble.

"Yes, Edward? What is it?" The man set his quill down, clasping his hands on top of the table.

"Your mother had intended to show Her Grace the gardens this afternoon, but has found herself unable. She asks that you take the walk in her stead."

Edward swallowed as he spoke the lie, trying hard to school his expression into neutrality, lest he give himself away.

The duke blinked at him a moment before nodding his head, picking up his quill, and continuing to write.

"Very well. You're dismissed."

Edward exhaled in relief as he turned around. Now he could only hope that the duke didn't mention anything to his mother.

Edward and Beatrice packed in silence, the somber air of death permeating the manor in the wake of the prince's death.

They had been pleased with the duke taking his wife on a daily walk, that their scheme had worked to get the pair together, but whatever triumph they felt was hollowed by the death of the prince.

The duke and duchess entered into the room, both looking distraught. His Grace turned to Beatrice.

"The duchess will not be leaving tonight. She can return after breakfast in the morning."

Beatrice nodded, schooling her face to hide her surprise.

Turning towards Edward, the duke continued. "I will be leaving within the hour. You may follow after with my things. And please let Mr. and Mrs. Smith know they will be staying until the Duchess leaves tomorrow as well."

Edward bowed. "Of course, sir." Nodding towards the duchess and sharing a quick glance with Beatrice, he exited the room.

Beatrice turned towards Rey, hiding her dismay at this turn of events. "Would you like to prepare for dinner, ma'am?"

The duchess, however, turned towards her. "You mean you're leaving?"

Beatrice walked into the closet, trying to melt into the background as her employers continued their conversation as if she wasn't present. She closed her eyes, hearing the pain in the duchess's voice as the duke continued to speak coldly to her. She wondered what could have caused such a change in his manner.

She was abruptly brought out of her wonderings by the duke's departure.

"Then it's settled," she heard. "I shall see you tomorrow then, madam."

Beatrice waited a moment before exiting the closet, her heart constricting as she watched the duchess stare at the doorway, hurt evident in her expression. How had things gone amiss so quickly?

* * *

After leaving her mistress behind, Beatrice raced down the stairs to apprise Rose of the situation.

"Oh dear," Rose said, her hand going to her mouth. "I should go to her."

Beatrice nodded, twisting her fingers together, hoping Rose would be able to provide distraction for the duchess. She couldn't help the anger that rose over the duke's dismissal of his wife. Could the man not see that his wife clearly loved him and was hurt by his departure? Surely he was not so dense.

Beatrice slept fitfully that night, unable to stop worrying about the duchess. Rose had returned shortly after leaving, stating she had been dismissed so the duchess could go to sleep.

As the sun rose, Beatrice rose with it, knowing it was likely that the duchess would also rise early and wish to leave. When she entered the servants' dining hall, she was unsurprised to see Rose and her husband sitting there as well.

She nodded at them as she sat down, all three sitting in silence until the bell for the guest room rang. She and Rose looked at one another, before both rising and heading up the stairs.

The duchess tried to smile, but failed. Instead she turned to Beatrice, her voice sounding hollow as she said, "I would like to leave as soon as possible."

Beatrice curtsied. "Of course, ma'am."

Beatrice and Rose shared a glance before Rose walked towards the closet. "I can help pack while you ready Her Grace, Beatrice."

Beatrice nodded as she also walked to the closet and came back with a black gown. Rose worked quickly at folding Rey's dresses, shoes, and other accoutrements into the trunk as Beatrice helped the duchess into her dress and set about arranging her hair.

"Nothing complicated please," she said.

Beatrice nodded, pulling her hair into a simple knot. When she was finished, the duchess stood and she faced the two women.

"I-I believe I'll go on ahead, if you don't mind. You can follow after you've packed and have eaten breakfast."

Beatrice and Rose again shared a glance before they both curtsied. As the duchess walked towards the door, Rose called out to her.

The duchess stopped and turned, Beatrice's heart squeezing at the pain she saw reflected the young woman's eyes.

"I hope you know that I am here to speak, should you wish it," Rose said, concern also coloring her expression.

The corners of the duchess's mouth turned up. "Yes, I am, thank you. You're a very good friend, Rose."

Rose pressed her lips together and nodded before stepping away.

* * *

Immediately upon their return, Beatrice sought out Edward, finding him in the hallway, just having exited the servants' dining hall.

Seeing him, her stomach did a strange flip. He seemed startled to see her, though he recovered quickly.

"I wish to speak with you." Beatrice spoke in low tones, hoping to avoid garnering too much attention.

Edward nodded, indicating Beatrice should follow him as he walked down the hallway and into one of the many servant's hallways. When they were well away from prying eyes and ears, Edward stopped and turned to her.

"How is the duchess?"

Beatrice was surprised by the worry in Edward's tone.

"Not good, I'm afraid. I have never seen her so brokenhearted."

Edward pressed his lips together, nodding once sharply. "The duke is also not well."

Anger rose in Beatrice's chest. "Well, it's his fault they're in such a state."

Edward frowned. "The man just lost his uncle."

"And if he's not careful, he shall lose his wife as well." Beatrice's voice came out sharp.

They stared at one another, both at a loss for words.

"What do we do then?" Edward asked, surprising her.

Beatrice shook her head. "I'm not sure there's anything we can do."

She sighed. "What a mess."

* * *

Several days later Edward was helping dress the duke, contemplating the wisdom of keeping his thoughts to himself over speaking his mind. This was all Beatrice's doing. He had never gotten involved in his employer's affairs before she had talked him into meddling.

The duke exhaled sharply. "Whatever it is you have to say, Edward, please get on with it."

Edward's eyes snapped up before he cleared his throat, holding out the jacket for the duke to shrug on.

"It would be an impertinence, sir."

"Very well, I'll consider myself warned. Get on with it."

Edward swallowed, contemplating his next words carefully.

"I would not wish to overstep."

The duke laughed hollowly, buttoning his cuffs. "Clearly you have a comment on my marriage and the fact that you so wish to avoid speaking it only pique's my curiosity. Now tell me what it is or I'll have you dismissed."

Edward looked at his employer for several more long moments before speaking.

"I have been in your employ for many years now." He swallowed before continuing. "As such I've had many years to observe the man you are."

The duke paused in tying his shoes to look up at Edward, a frown on his face.

"I have made it my job," Edward continued, "to know your moods so that I can best serve you."

He paused a moment, wondering how the duke would take his next words.

"I don't know the particulars of your argument with the duchess, but I can see that it has upset you. Would it not be best to speak with her rather than avoid her?"

A muscle ticked in the duke's jaw as his eyes narrowed. Edward was certain he had overstepped, despite his employer's insistence that he speak his mind, and prepared himself for a thorough tongue lashing.

After a moment, however, the duke turned back to tying his shoes. "Thank you, Edward, that'll be all."

Edward bowed and left the room, thankful that he had been dismissed from the room rather than his employment.

* * *

After several more days had passed there was a commotion as Beatrice was ironing. Setting aside the iron, she walked out to find out what the fuss was about.

"What's going on?"

One of the maids turned around. "His Grace is taking Her Grace for a picnic lunch!"

Beatrice's eyebrows rose in shock. "Truly?"

The maid nodded. "Yes! He asked for a picnic lunch to be prepared and he and the duchess rode off onto the grounds on horseback." She smiled knowingly. "On one horse."

Hope and excitement bloomed in Beatrice's chest. She turned, intent on finding Edward. As usual, she found him in the polishing room. She glanced around and then, seeing that no one was near them, walked up to him excitedly.

"The duke has taken the duchess on a picnic."

Edward's eyebrows rose. "He has?"

Beatrice nodded emphatically. "He has. The rode away on a single horse as well."

Edward frowned, his eyes glazing over. Beatrice cocked her head. "Did you say something to him?"

Edward exhaled, shaking himself as his eyes snapped to hers. "I spoke to him a few days ago, but I thought my suggestion fell on deaf ears as he continued avoiding her."

Beatrice couldn't help her smile. "You spoke to him?"

Edward pressed his lips together, but amusement sparkled in his eyes. "You've been a terrible influence on me, I dare say."

Beatrice laughed. "But just look where it's gotten us. Can you honestly say that the perpetually sour-faced Duke of Ren would have done something so romantic as a picnic lunch with his wife had we not been here to nudge him along?"

Edward snorted. "Yes. Thank goodness the duke hired you as his wife's lady's maid or they might never have spoken two words together."

Beatrice grinned before turning around, throwing over her shoulder, "They'll be properly in love by sundown, mark my words."

* * *

The entire house had been abuzz all day and night, remarking on the changed manner between the duke and duchess. They had dined sitting next to one another and had never rang for either Beatrice or Edward to come ready them for bed.

In fact, it was well into the morning before they were rang. Edward was surprised to find the duke in his own rooms, as the rumors had swirled that the duke and duchess had not spent the night apart. What was even more surprising, however, was how happy the duke seemed. Edward had never seen the man smile, and yet he kept smiling at the thoughts in his head. Once he was dressed, Edward gathered up the clothes and headed for the door.

"Edward."

He turned, surprised by the humble look in the duke's eyes. "Yes, sir?"

The duke cleared his throat. "I wish to thank you."

Edward cocked his head. "I'm afraid I don't know what I've done to deserve your thanks."

The corners of the duke's mouth twitched. "Though you were well aware that I could have dismissed you, you chose to comment on the state of my marriage. I want you to know that I replayed your words many times these past days and were it not for you, I might never have spoken to the duchess and found happiness. So I thank you for your friendship."

Edward stared at the duke, his mouth slightly open. Catching himself, he closed his mouth and shook his head. Bowing he replied, "You're most welcome, sir."

The duke waved a hand. "Very well, you're dismissed."

As Edward turned, he could not help but smile.

As he walked out the doorway, he saw Beatrice also stepping out of her mistress's rooms. His grin widened as she turned and walked towards him.

"Well, it would seem our work here is done," he said as they walked side by side down the hallway.

Beatrice looked at him, her smile lighting up her face. "So it would seem."

Edward glanced at Beatrice, her smile lighting up her face. He blinked rapidly when he realized he had feelings for the woman. Somewhere in the time they had spent scheming he had grown rather fond of her.

He turned to eyes forward again as he contemplated this turn of events. As they were descending the staircase, he decided to take his own advice and speak with her.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Edward placed a staying hand on her shoulder.

Beatrice turned towards him, curiosity in her eyes.

Dropping his hand, Edward cleared his throat. He opened his mouth, before closing it again, as he struggled to find the right words.

After several more moments in which he probably resembled a fish struggling for air, Beatrice surprised him by blurting out, "I've grown rather fond of you, Edward."

His mouth fell open and he blinked rapidly as his heart sped up. "You have?"

Beatrice bit her lip, suddenly looking shy as she glanced around and then nodded. Thankfully they were alone.

"I feel the same," he said, feeling rather laconic.

Beatrice's lips twitched before she nodded at him. "Well, since we both agree, I think it best we return to our duties before Mrs. Phasma finds us idle."

Edward smiled and nodded. "Of course."

Beatrice ducked her head, a smile on her lips as they walked back towards the servants' hall to tend to their chores, Edward frequently glancing towards her. Who could have guessed that their schemes to get their employers to realize their love would have led to him and Beatrice falling in love as well?

* * *

**A/N: **Probably not my best writing, but it was fun. Thanks for reading! :)


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